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Friday, February 27, 2009

A toddling little girl is a centre of common feeling which makes the most dissimilar people understand each other.-- George Eliot

Little girl stuff makes me melt. Seriously. Melt.

I bought this handmade jacket on Etsy a little while ago. It is made from a vintage table cloth.

My mother-in-law knitted this sweet little sweater for me from a Hadley Fierlinger pattern. She used the softest Debbie Bliss casmerino yarn. I just need a little pixie to put it on.

If you are so blessed to have a little girl patting around in your house, you must, must, must click over to Mountain Aven Baby and have a look around. I meet Blair through Etsy and everything she makes is absolutely adorable for girls and boys.

Blair is giving away a $25 gift certificate to one lucky winner who leaves a comment. She is also having a big sale! Go! Go now and have a look!

Let me just introduce you to the maven o' cute hair babbles, Amy. Amy owns and runs Flowerzinherhair.com. Here's what she had to say about her work:

"I love the business aspect as well as creating things. So when I started making bows, and headbands, it became a great outlet for both my business side and my creative side. I have been making bows and selling them for about 3 years.

I bought flowerzinherhair.com at the beginning of this year from a remarkable woman that I was able to spend a lot of time with. She taught me some valuable things from her style of bow making and the technical aspects of running a website. I was able to merge her ideas with my own and create a website that I am really proud of, and more than anything, I absolutely love love love what I do."

Amy is also offering a $25 gift certificate and 10% off to Suaviloquy readers. Her bows are very affordable and I swear she has a billion different styles. Check out her site.

You know the drill- leave a comment and be in the drawing for both gift certificates. One comment per person please. No sneaky stuff. I know all the tricks. I've tried them myself.

Thursday, February 26, 2009

I asked Jenny what she thought of a baby name I like. She said it sounded like a hillbilly name, but it didn't matter because any name I choose she would eventually love.

We were on a run. We have great talks when we run together. We once ran a half marathon together. Jenny wanted to stop running at mile eleven. I told her no, just keep running. When the finish line came into view, she sprinted ahead and crossed before me.I forgave her for that. Mostly.Another time we went on vacation and she took care of the cat while we were away. He pooped and peed all over the place and Jenny had to deal with it. I should just mention that she DOES NOT like animals.She forgave me. Kind of.There was also the time I didn't make it to her daughter's baptism. Still paying for that one.The very best time spent with Jenny is when we say nothing at all. Every year we while away our summers at the beach. We arrange our chairs arm to arm and stretch out our legs. We read fashion magazines and eat snacks. And if something interesting happens to walk by, we don't speak. We just tilt our sunglasses and give the "look". With us, words are superfluous.

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Here's a little peek at what I have been working on at my bench. I have been thinking about adding to my adoption line for some time now. I finally came up with the perfect piece.

Inscribed in Latin: "Auxilio Ab Alto" (with help from on high)

It's very simple and very wearable. Of all the pieces I have created, this one most closely reflects the feelings in my heart regarding adoption. I hope other people feel the same.

It will be part of the adoption line, however, I think most of my adoption piece can be used in other ways. For example, this ring could be given as a good luck gift to anyone starting a new endeavour.

I'm not sure when the spring collection will be available. Hopefully by the first part of April.

Wednesday, February 25, 2009

I'm not one to gush. Sure I'm a proud mom. Like everyone else, I secretly think my kid is the cutest, funniest most charming of all children. But I don't gush. Mostly because, well, it's just not that interesting to other people, except maybe my mom.But today, I must. I must gush. I'm in the mood and I'm going with it.

When Thom was first born he looked like a little old rabbi. He had jet black hair and a pointy nose. I thought, my word, I've given birth to a Baal Torah. Then he puffed up into this chubby little butterball and I thought, my word, this child is fun to pinch!Then he grew and became the skinny twig boy he is today. The only pinchable place on his entire body are his four cheeks. Even those make for meager pinching these days.As if to make up for my disappointment in regards is his pinchabilty, Thom has become a budding artist. He always knows just the right thing to twang my heart and make me proud.Here is his latest installation piece hanging in his class room. It was a collaborative effort with his good friend Ethan. If you can't tell, those are M&M men.At night, before I go to bed, I sneak into his room. I kneel by his bed and listen to him breath. His rocketship nightlight glows green, then blue, then red. The stars on his ceiling are fading and seem far away.

This is where I like to say my prayers. This is where I thank the Lord for everyday I have been given with my funny, skinny, charming little boy.

Tuesday, February 24, 2009

I didn't sleep well the night before. I tossed and turned with my brain mechanisms all amuddle and gooped. The projectionist upstairs kept replaying the same wakeful dream over and over till it was all scratched and I couldn't make out the characters. I awoke with a pasty mouth and dark eyes.

The sky looked like black pearls.

I showered because, well, showering always makes a person feel better. Thomas did not shower. Nor did the grizzly bear.

I puttered. A little fertilizer for the African violet. A little blog reading. A little time snipping off the errant carpet fibers.

And then I did one of my most favorite of all things to do. I cooked on a cloudy day, in a warm kitchen while my hound dog slept at my feet. And I listened to Chinese lullabies.

I made tomato basil soup.

At two in the afternoon, I called my boys to come eat. They shuffled in, hair askew pajamas wrinkled. Thom had the haired look of a mad scientist. He had been constructing intricate race tracks for hours. The grizzly grunted.

We sat at the bar sipping our soup and dipping crackers like the three bears from Goldilocks.

This is how, slowly, ever so slowly, we whittled away the hours of a dark day, in a cozy home on a quiet street.

Sunday, February 22, 2009

Shop Girl by HeidschoetterOne little vice never hurt anyone. Mine just happens to be shopping. I'm not neurotic about it. I don't have closets stashed full of bags of unopened, unworn items. I don't run up credits cards or buy things way out of my price range. I don't shop everyday. It's not an issue. I have it under control.

I think.

But the fact of the matter is that it does make me feel happy. I love to browse the sprawling make-up counters at Nordies. I sniff the perfumes while I nonchalantly gawk at the eccentric Mac employees. I run my fingers over each item that catches my eye. I try on hats and shoes that I would never buy.

For me, shopping is like eating ice cream. It's so much nicer with a friend. I am a social shopper. It's kindof like a social drinker only better. Instead of a designated driver, I need someone reel me in when my "eclectic" sense of style gets a little over board for church on Sunday.

I have never owned a pair of spectators. I think now is the time.

I will own this gorgeous gauzy tunic. If I have to sew and embroider it myself, I will have it.

Hummm, if only I could sew. I guess I just need to do some shopping around. I'm quite positive I can find something very similar. Shopping is one thing I'm pretty good at.

Saturday, February 21, 2009

Be what you would seem to be, or if you'd like it put more simply: Never imagine yourself not to be otherwise than what it might appear to others that what you were or might have been was not otherwise than what you had been would have appeared to them to be otherwise.- The Duchess from "Alice in Wonderland"

I awoke to the grey haze of a costal morning. Arizona was great, but I'm a ocean girl through and through. So glad to be home. . .

Friday, February 20, 2009

Sugar Daddy was shanghaied by the kind of cold/flu that makes you feel like you are drowning under a plastic tarp. In short, he is one miserable grumpy bear.

So that left little old me to do all the driving today. I set the cruise control at seventy-four and took off my shoes. The boy watched a movie with earphones and the grumpy bear slept. I was all alone with my thoughts and the rattle of a luggage zipper pull.

Bloody Basin Road: lat. 34.2486 long. -111.7688

My grandma's grandma married a wandering man. He was in and out of her life enough to give her eleven children. Nine of which survived. In her husband's absence, she ran the ranch. She must have been somewhat of a Calamity Jane, full of wrangle and grit. I can just see her out there on the ranch raising kids and cattle, eking out a living on the Western front. When her husband at long last decided to come home for good, she wanted nothing of it and drove him off her land.

I like to think that she is up in heaven relaxing from her labors, but she doesn't strike me as the type of person who can tolerate much idleness.

Horse Thief Basin: lat. 34.0928 long. -112.1720

On several occasions I have had the science behind a mirage explained to me. I think I understand it, and yet, still, it's magic.

Deadman's Wash: lat. 33.5300 long. -112.0800

On our way to the Grand Canyon yesterday we saw a bald eagle circling in the sky. I wondered if the Native Americans would take it as a sign. I'm hoping it means good luck.

We ate a fancy lunch at the El Tovar Hotel next to the Grand Canyon. There was a huge fire blazing at one end of the dining room. It was so cozy I could have stayed there for hours.

When we hit Twenty-Nine Palms it was 73 degrees and The Boy was antsy. California proved to be much less enjoyable than Arizona. I ended up with pinched shoulder muscles, a splitting headache and a ticket for going 70 in a 55 zone, which I really think is a sham.

Thursday, February 19, 2009

I'm a lucky girl in many little ways and some big ones. I scored big with my sister-in-law, Julie. My husband tortured this girl when they were growing up, and yet she still speaks to us. She is peaceful and fiery all at once. She is artsy and gutsy and tall and incredibly loving.

She is still the first one up on Christmas morning.

When I impulsively suggested that we get in the car and drive three hours to Gallup, New Mexico to check out the Native American jewelry there, she was totally on board. She's cool that way.

Julie also understands my struggles with infertility. She's been there herself. She is always willing to listen or pray or, in dire circumstances, buy me some fun thing to pick me up. Did I say she has great taste?

I love her.

My boots are covered in red dirt. One must always wear her boots in Sedona. I think it's written somewhere in the Bible.

The Boy is in pure dirt heaven. I've taken to calling him my little javelina. I think he only has one pair of clean pants left. He walked through three cactus plants yesterday. His dad carefully dislodged all known needles and he only whimpered a tiny bit. Ben is quite happy with the nature indoctrination program he has set forth for his son. They should be climbing Everest together by the time Thom turns ten.

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

The air here in Sedona is so crisp it nearly crackles in your lungs. The red rocks are dusted with powdered sugar snow. The icicles in Flagstaff are as big as a man's arm and go all the way to the ground. And I forgot my photo card for my laptop.

Sooooo. . .

You get an iphone photo taken as I lay in bed last night with my head all aswirl with the beauty of nature, the charisma of the Native people, the sweet and amazing jewelry gifts from my husband and opportunities that may be.

I can't wait to share, but for now I will just say, dear readers, sweet friends from all over the globe, sometime you should come to Sedona. It feeds your soul.

Monday, February 16, 2009

Somethings never die. Like licorice ice cream. You may think that it is a thing of the past, gone the way of petticoats and horehound candy, but it's still around. I know because I order up a double scoop every time I go to the dairy down the street from my parents house.

I guess it is still around because I still order it. And if I order it, that must mean that other people like it as well.

I have been complimented on my taste.

I just wish someone would explain to me why the color it blue. I mean, what's the deal with that?

And photo booths. I'm pretty passionate about photo booths. I hope they never go away. The digital ones aren't as good as the old ones. The pictures are too crisp, but sometimes I settle.

If you want a real old fashion photo booth experience, go here and find one in your area.

Also, gift idea for yours truly. . .

It's a little pricey as far as books go, but well worth the moola if you ask me.

Does this guy look like the type of person who would use a photo booth?

Photo booths will never go away. Everyone loves them. Even crusty old sailors with questionable objects in their mouths.

So Valentine's day really isn't our "thing". We might exchange little token gifts, but for the most part, we don't make a big deal about it.

BUT- what I do love about Valentine's Day is the kitchyness. I relish the cheesy cards and the campy store bought goodies. I mean, who doesn't love conversation hearts? Really.

Is Valentine's a Hallmark holiday? Why yes it is! And that's what is so great about it! Elementary school would never have been the same without chintzy little cards made from red doilies and decorated shoebox mailboxes.

Thom and I are all over it, getting ready for the big day. We have all the Valentine's ready to take to school.

The hearts are hung in the window with care, in hopes that St. Valentine will show up and leave a couple hundred bucks on the counter.

The big pink sugar cookies are frosted with almond buttercream and ready to deliver. Scrumdillyumptious!

And the campy handmade Valentines are in the mail to their intended sweetheart.

Here's Cupid himself, lips pursed in concentration, crafting a card for his cousins. Notice the chocolate smears all over his shirt? We needed sustenance while we worked.

This is my mantra for today: Let. Love. Live. However you do it. Don't quash the vibe. If you are fancy pants lovey dovey, do that. If you are simple and sweet like Sugar Daddy and I, put the kids to bed, break out the Netflix and Ben and Jerry's and nestle in.

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

In honor of Valentine's Day, which is quickly approaching (I better get crackin on my gifts), I give you 5 littlethings that make me feel loved in a big way.

#1. When Sugar Daddy asks for my opinion on certain things and he listens to what I have to say, I know he sees me as not just his wife, but as person with equal life experience and good judgement.

#2. When people love the gifts I give them so much they cry, I feel loved and happy. Not because they are crying of course. No, that can be a little embarrassing. Just because it reminds me that the things I do are valued.

#3. In our quiet moments, when Thom sits on my lap and plays with my hair and we talk about his day, I know that I am not just his mother. I am his mommy.

#4. Although it drives me absolutely bizerk, I know that my dog, Finnigan, is madly in love with me because he follows me EVERYWHERE.#5. And last but not lest, I know Sugar Daddy is head over heels for me because when he comes home from work, and there is glitter all over the kitchen floor, canvases, brushes, paint and paper strewn around the table, no dinner in sight and the laundry is crawling up the wall, he kisses me and asks to see what I am working on. Then he clears a spot on the counter and makes us all quesadillas. Now that is love.

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

I sat yesterday in a restaurant booth across from my good friend Rosa. Over steaming bowls of Tortilla soup, in broken English, she recounted her childhood experiences with a alcoholic father. As a scrawny seven-year-old girl she would wait late into the night for her father to come home so that she could try to keep him from beating her mother.

Rosa is from Oaxaca Mexico. She is a Zapotec Indian. She speaks Zapoteco. Spanish is her second language. English, her third. Her family still farms beans in a village about three hours out of Oaxaca where she grew up.

Rosa's life has not been an easy one. The circumstances that landed her in the United States are many and varied. She has worked and toiled and scrapped to build a life for her family. And she is only 34. She is three months younger than me and yet she has seen so much. I often think that my life has gone by fast. Rosa must need a pair of goggles for the whirlwind life she has lead so far.Here's the amazing part.Rosa is happy. She is quick to smile and easy to make laugh. She is hopeful. She is benevolent. She bears no bitter seeds of remorse or guilt. She has taken the lemons of life and made a huge batch of guacamole which she shares with everyone she meets.I love Rosa. Every time I see her I get an overwhelming desire to look for all the happy things in my life. That, and I'm also made to feel like a neanderthal. Zapotecs are tiny people. I don't think Rosa's hands are much larger than Thom's and she doesn't even clear my shoulders. I guess I should just be happy that I can reach the cereal down from the shelf.On the happiness note, I would like to say, a cheerful thing about my life right now is the chocolate that I received after my pleas for "down day" donations. Thanks to everyone who cared enough about me to send a little sweetness my way. It really did help lift my spirits. Cocoa was actually discovered by the Mayans (also a Mesoamerican civilization) so it all ties in so nicely.